


snowed under

by gonnapop



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Childbirth, I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant: Starkiller Base, M/M, Mpreg, Surprise pregnancy, Trans Hux, trapped in a snow storm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 23:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12782091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonnapop/pseuds/gonnapop
Summary: While surveying progress on Starkiller Base, Hux and Kylo Ren become stranded on a malfunctioning shuttle, during a blizzard. It’s the worst possible time for Hux to go into labor—especially because he didn’t realize he was pregnant.





	snowed under

**Author's Note:**

> so I got sucked into a downward spiral of “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant” episodes on YouTube, and this was the absurd result. please enjoy my usual gross content, with an extra helping of the “trapped in a snowstorm” trope.
> 
>  **content warnings:** this fic features Hux as a dfab trans man. there are explicit references to dfab anatomy, including words like “pussy,” as well as a vaginal birth scene. I understand this may not work for all readers. I want to minimize the chances of someone being inadvertently triggered while reading, so please mind the tags, consider how they might interact with your own triggers/sensitivities, and read safely.

“It’s no good,” Hux says at last, leaning against the back of the copilot’s chair to disguise how uncomfortable it is for him to stand. His hips have been bothering him for a few days now; it wasn’t a major problem before, but in the last few hours, the dull ache has sharpened. “I doubt we’ll reestablish communications before sunup, so we might as well settle in for the night.”

Outside, the wind howls across the tundra, faintly muffled. The weather conditions have rendered the shuttle’s communications systems virtually useless.

“The shuttle may be buried in snow by then,” Ren says grimly. He’s seated in the pilot’s chair, glowering at the silent comm.

“The tracking signal should still get through. And besides, can’t you clear the snow off with the Force, or whatever it is that you do?”

Ren gives him a dark look, like Hux is trivializing the Force by suggesting Ren use it as a snow blower, but he says nothing.

This wasn’t how Hux had imagined the day would go. A bright, clear morning had dawned on the small planet that would soon become Starkiller. Construction was just beginning; supplies and personnel were migrating slowly from the _Finalizer_ to the surface. At the Supreme Leader’s urging, both Hux and Ren came down to survey the progress so far and relay their impressions to Snoke.

They were making their way from an engineering outpost to the main base, in a two-person shuttle, when it all went sideways. The storm seemed to whip up out of nowhere; in moments, they were caught in a blizzard, buffeted by gale-force winds. The shuttle’s primary engine blew, and only Ren’s piloting skills kept them from dying in a fiery crash. He managed to guide the shuttle onto the tundra—a bumpy landing, to be sure, but nothing exploded.

The auxiliary power is working, at least, so they have light, and they won’t freeze, despite the subzero temperatures outside. But the weather is creating too much interference. Hux hasn’t been able to make contact with the base, nor with the _Finalizer_ , and he doubts anyone else will get a lock on their location before the storm passes. Until the weather clears, Hux and Ren are stuck here, together.

The situation is far from ideal, beyond the obvious inconvenience of being stranded in a blizzard. Hux hasn’t been alone with Ren since their relationship—if it could be called that, considering it was mostly sexual—imploded six months ago. They’ve avoided each other as much as possible in the aftermath, interacting only as much as necessary to perform their duties. This survey trip is the first time they’ve worked together one-on-one in half a year. It was supposed to be simple. But then again, where Kylo Ren is concerned, nothing ever is.

Being in such close quarters with Ren feels strange after so long. There was a time when Hux was comfortable in Ren’s company, when they enjoyed each other in all possible ways, but that seems like a decade ago.

Irrationally, he doesn’t want Ren looking at him too closely, lest he notice how his body has changed in recent months. Since they stopped sleeping together, Hux has put on weight. He doesn’t know how it happened, since he eats the same nutritionally-optimized rations every day. And yet, he’s noticed his clothes gradually getting tighter over time, until one day, he found that he couldn’t fasten his pants. He had to send for a bigger uniform.

It’s humiliating, not to mention bizarre. He’s considered going to medbay, in case he has some kind of underlying problem that’s causing the weight gain, but he’s a busy man. There never seems to be time, not with Starkiller’s construction underway.

A sudden cramp ripples across his abdomen. He’s been having these odd twinges all day—like menstrual cramps, but sharper, more intense, less localized. They seem to be getting longer and coming faster; this is the worst one yet. He gives an involuntary huff of pain, and instantly wishes he could take it back, because now Ren is looking at him with something like concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you injured?”

“No. No, I just—I don’t feel well, all of a sudden.” Truth be told, he hasn’t felt well all cycle, but it’s gotten progressively worse in the hours since they became stranded, impossible to ignore. He’s faintly nauseated, his skin uncomfortably hot and clammy. Maybe it’s delayed shock from the crash. Or maybe it’s related to whatever has been causing the increasingly-painful cramps.

“You look pale,” Ren says slowly, almost suspiciously. “And you’re sweating.”

“I think I’ll lie down for a while. Keep an eye on the comm, just in case.” Hux hates how shaky his voice is, but he can’t keep it steady.

He makes his way to the small cabin, walking stiffly, on account of the pain in his hips. As he approaches the lower bunk, another cramp makes him stumble. Pain lances through his hips, radiating across his lower back, and his knees buckle. He would’ve fallen, if not for Ren.

Ren appears out of nowhere, steadying Hux with both hands, holding him upright for thirty excruciating seconds, until the cramp passes. Then he helps Hux straighten and shuffle across the cabin, to the lower bunk. He must’ve trailed Hux from the cockpit.

“I knew it. You’re ill,” Ren declares, as if Hux couldn’t have reached that conclusion himself. He yanks his gloves off and moves as if to check Hux’s temperature with the back of his hand.

Hux shies away from Ren’s touch, turning his face away, but their skin brushes all the same.

Suddenly, Ren’s eyes widen, and he whips his hand back as though burned. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands, sounding almost hurt. “Is it not mine?”

“Is what yours?”

“The baby.”

Hux is sure he misheard. He feels a little lightheaded. “What baby?”

For a second, Ren studies him intently, his eyes dark, as if he’s searching for something. Then he lets out a huff. “You don’t know? How could you not know?” His voice jumps a little, getting louder. “Kriff, Hux, you’re in labor—”

“That’s absurd. I can’t be in labor,” Hux says immediately, defensive, before he has a chance to really process the words. “I’m not pregnant.”

“You are! I can sense the baby.”

Another cramp squeezes Hux’s insides like a vise, and he bites back a moan. “That’s not possible. Whatever’s wrong with me, it’s not labor.”

“Are you really going to argue with me right now?” Ren sounds slightly hysterical. “You’re about to have a baby—”

“Shut up and let me think,” Hux says roughly, teeth gritted against the pain.

How could he be pregnant? The implant that regulates his hormones means he hasn’t had a menstrual cycle in many years—but then again, he supposes, that doesn’t necessarily mean he hasn’t been ovulating. A pregnancy would explain his unusual weight gain, though by all rights, he should probably be bigger. He’s at least six months along; that was the last time he slept with Ren. The relatively small size of his belly doesn’t bode well for any child he might be carrying.

If he’s pregnant, it would also demystify some of the other odd ailments that have bothered him in recent months: back pain and assorted achiness, persistent fatigue, unusual food cravings that he’s too disciplined to satisfy. Most damning are the pains he’s been having all day: rhythmic, coming in waves. Stars above, he’s been having contractions and never realized.

“I… I might be in labor,” he concedes at last, when the pain subsides at last. He touches one hand to his stomach, hesitantly, struggling to imagine a baby inside of him—a baby that he and Ren conceived together, totally by accident. The thought is dizzying, hard to focus on. “That, or I’m actively dying.”

“You’re not dying,” Ren says, decisively. “How long have you been having contractions?”

“Since the beginning of this cycle. Fourteen hours, just about.”

Ren goggles at him. “And you never thought to see a medic?”

“The cramps were mild until recently,” Hux says, feeling judged. “I thought they’d go away on their own. I certainly didn’t expect to be stranded here with you!”

“Okay. Okay, this is manageable,” Ren mutters, seemingly more to himself than to Hux. He straightens, pacing across the small cabin. “It’s a perfectly natural process. We can get by without medics. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Ren…”

“You need to get undressed. And we need—hot water, and towels. What is this shuttle equipped with?”

“Ren!” Hux barks.

He stops pacing. “What?”

“Do you know anything about delivering a baby?”

“No,” Ren says, with a strange sort of intensity. “But there’s no one else here, so you need to let me help you.”

With a sinking feeling, Hux realizes that he’s right. They won’t be able to call for a pickup until the storm clears, which could be hours from now—and based on the increasing pressure low in his pelvis, Hux doesn’t think the baby will wait that long. He’s going to give birth in this shuttle, with no one but Kylo Ren to assist, stars preserve him. “There should be linens in the supply locker,” he says at last. “And there’s a water tank, in case of emergency.”

Ren rushes off, returning a minute later with an armload of towels and bed sheets, probably more than they actually need. He dumps the linens on the bed, then removes his surcoat and tunic, as well as his boots, so he’s left in only his undershirt and pants. “Childbirth can’t be that hard,” he says, “or the species wouldn’t have survived this long.”

“That’s not even slightly reassuring,” Hux tells him.

Ren ignores the comment. “Let’s get your pants off.”

While Ren helps him peel off his sweat-damp clothes, Hux is acutely aware of the rounded swell of his lower belly, much more obvious now without his heavy greatcoat to cover it. He still doesn’t look pregnant, just a little round; no one would guess that there’s a baby inside of him, based on that. It still seems unreal to Hux.

Ren must be having similar thoughts, because he asks, in a low voice, “You never noticed anything? It never kicked?”

“No, never,” Hux says, and the thought is horrifying all of a sudden. What does it mean that he’s never felt the baby move? He hasn’t exactly been looking after his health. His sleep schedule is abysmal; he’s been drinking once or twice a week all this time, even smoking on occasion. “You can sense it, can’t you? Is it—” He breaks off, jaw tight. 

“Alive?” Ren asks, maybe so Hux doesn’t have to speak the word. “Yes. I’m sure it is. But I don’t know if it’s healthy. Or even if it’s full term.” He hesitates, glancing at Hux. “And do you know if it’s…”

“Yours?” Despite himself, Hux is a little offended. “Naturally. There hasn’t been anyone else.”

They have to stop halfway through the process of undressing, when another contraction almost doubles Hux over. He clings to Ren while he rides it out, groaning. It humiliates him, but at least Ren is proving to be good for something: He’s solid, steady, and that’s what Hux needs right now.

Together, they strip Hux down to just his undershirt. It makes him feel vulnerable, but now isn’t the time for modesty, and he doesn’t want to ruin all of his clothes if he can help it. Ren strategically layers some sheets and towels on the bunk, then disappears. He returns a minute later with a metal basin, full of faintly steaming water, though Hux doesn’t know what he intends to do with it. Ren probably got all his ideas about childbirth from holodramas.

Before he can voice any questions, Hux feels a new pressure inside of him, and then a sudden, unsettling _pop_ that makes him gasp. A rush of hot fluid instantly soaks the towel underneath him.

“What?” Ren’s voice is sharp with concern.

“I think…” Hux swallows, face burning. His vulva and inner thighs feel wet, sticky, but he can’t quite bring himself to check with his hands. “I think my waters broke.”

“Oh. Well. I can take care of that,” Ren manages. “Here, let me help you up—”

When Hux stands, more wetness pours out of him, spattering his bare feet. There appears to be a little blood in the clear fluid. He’s mortified, but Ren doesn’t comment. Bidding a silent farewell to his dignity, Hux watches Ren dip a cloth in the basin and then, with surprising gentleness, wipe Hux down with it: inner thigh, knee, calf, foot, and repeat on the other side. He moves slowly, methodically, until Hux is cleaned up.

The pressure in his pelvis is more intense now. Each contraction feels much stronger than before, more productive, like there’s downward movement inside him. He wants to bear down, though he can’t really articulate why—but he hesitates, unsure of what this is supposed to feel like. Presumably, his body knows what to do, but Hux isn’t accustomed to listening to his instincts.

“I think I need to push,” he admits at last, breathlessly, after a particularly painful contraction. He feels stretched open, a solid weight pressing relentlessly on some internal barrier.

“Lie back so I can examine you first,” Ren says, and the look on his face is so serious that it’s almost comical. The entire situation is absurd; Hux feels like his life has become a cosmic joke. “It might not be safe for you to push yet.”

“And how would you know? You have no idea what you’re looking for—” Like clockwork, another contraction seizes him; he can’t hold back a moan as his belly tenses and the pressure becomes unbearable. He feels himself begin to shake. “Pfassk, this is a nightmare. I really need to push.”

“Just let me take a look.” Absurdly, Ren sounds like he’s going for a calm, confident tone. Hux doubts he’ll be any great help at this point; Ren knows his way around a pussy, at least when it comes to sex—that’s how Hux got into this predicament in the first place—but he’s clueless in this context. “Here, lie back. Let me help you—”

Hux doesn’t resist, because he lacks the strength. Even so, it takes a few minutes and a great deal of help to get him in the right position: When he moves to lie down, he feels a hard, stabbing pain in his lower back, like a knife has been jammed into his spine. Then a contraction locks him in place for almost a minute, his whole body going taut and rigid as he rides it out.

At last, he’s on his back, breathing shallowly, knees pointed toward the ceiling. Ren settles carefully between his legs. Then he pales.

“What?” Hux asks, peering up at Ren over the gentle curve of his belly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s coming out,” Ren says, a look of barely-contained panic on his face.

Hux didn’t need anyone to tell him that; he can feel it, like he’s splitting open. He drops his head back with a groan. “Oh, pfassk.”

“Push on the next contraction. And don’t forget to breathe,” Ren says, as if he knows anything about it. He helps Hux to arrange his legs, spreading them wider.

By now, the urge to push is so strong that giving in is almost a relief. It burns and stings like nothing else he’s ever experienced, and he feels like his hips are going to crack apart—but at the same time, despite the pain, this feels right, like he’s doing what his body is built for.

“The head is almost out,” Ren says, after a few long, hard contractions have passed. Hux struggles to focus on his words; his whole body is subsumed by the effort of pushing. “Breathe, Hux. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Yeah, just like that, good…”

He feels it when the head slips out of him: an excruciating stretch, and then a gush of fluid. When the next contraction comes, he struggles to pass the shoulders. Two hard pushes, and the shoulders haven’t budged. He’s trembling all over with tension, sweating, his thighs straining with effort.

Noticing his distress, Ren hauls one of his legs up; the new angle opens his pelvis a little more, and the next push is more productive. Hux moans as he feels the baby stretch him even wider.

“You’re doing great, Hux,” Ren is babbling, still holding Hux’s legs in place. “A few more good pushes, that’s all. Then you can rest.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Hux tries to focus on that: Soon this ordeal will be over, and the baby will be here. But instead of motivating him, the thought terrifies him. The last couple of hours have been such a blur that he hasn’t had the time to grasp the reality of the situation: There’s a baby coming out of him—a complete person. This is real, happening right now, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

But what is he supposed to do with a baby? Even if it’s healthy, which he doubts, he isn’t equipped to care for it. He doesn’t have the time to raise a child, nor does he have the skill, not after the way he grew up. What does he know about children? How can he take care of a helpless infant?

“I can’t do this,” Hux hears himself say, voice thin and panicked.

“Yes, you can. You’re almost done, Hux, just a little more—”

“No, I can’t—I can’t have a baby—” His breath is coming in hard, ragged gasps. He feels nauseated, like he might vomit. “This shouldn’t be happening. I can’t have child, I’m not capable, I don’t deserve to—” He’s almost sobbing now, half from pain and half from panic. Another contraction wrenches his insides, but he can’t muster the strength to push, no matter how powerful the urge is. Maybe he’ll die like this, if it goes on long enough. Maybe that would be easier than the alternative. “Stars, what am I going to do?”

“Hux. Hux, look at me.” Ren’s voice is soft but urgent. It takes some coaxing to get Hux to look up and focus on him. Ren is looking at him intently, his eyes dark and bright. “I’m right here. This is my baby, too. Whatever happens, I’m not going to abandon you. We’ll do this together. Do you hear me?”

“Ren…” That’s all Hux has the breath to say: his name, just his name.

“Now, I know you’re afraid. But you’ve got to push.”

With effort, Hux sucks in a shaky breath, and then another. He manages to nod a little. When he feels another contraction begin to build, he grips the sheet in his hands, hard enough that his knuckles hurt, and forces himself to bear down. It’s hard, maybe the hardest thing he’s ever done—the shoulders are stubborn, and he can feel himself stretching painfully. Through the whoosh of blood in his ears, he hears Ren’s voice: _good, good, keep pushing, that_ _’s it…_

Hux shoves and shoves, until his body yields, and the unbearable pressure suddenly eases. The only sound is his own ragged breathing, which suggests to him that the baby was stillborn. He never fully expected it to be alive, considering he never felt it move all the months he carried it—and yet, the thought that his child died inside of him is crushing. He collapses back against the mattress, trembling.

And then he hears a weak, whimpering cry.

“A girl,” Ren is saying breathlessly. Propping himself up onto his elbows, Hux sees that Ren is cradling a squalling, blood-streaked infant in his big hands. He looks both stunned and thrilled, his dark eyes wet with tears. “Look, Hux, a girl, she’s perfect—”

Wordlessly, Hux reaches for the baby. In any other circumstance, he would’ve been repulsed by the mess—the baby is wrinkly, tinged blue-gray, covered in slick bodily fluids—but he feels suddenly as if he’ll die if he doesn’t hold her. It seems ludicrous, the impulse, but it’s too powerful to ignore. Ren carefully bundles her in a towel to trap her body heat, then tips her into Hux’s outstretched arms.

Hux gathers the baby against his chest without having to think about it, his body acting on autpilot. He can’t stop looking at his daughter. She’s tiny, even smaller than Hux would’ve imagined. It’s possible that she’s premature, but she seems robust enough, wailing loudly, her skin already pinking up. She’s got a small amount of damp, dark hair and Ren’s too-large ears.

“Well, that’s the hard part over with,” he mutters, studying the baby’s beautiful, scrunched-up face.

There will be much more to deal with, of course. Hux is fairly sure he still has to birth the placenta, and then he ought to see if he can nurse. He doesn’t know if he has any kind of milk supply, but his chest has plumped up in recent months, along with the rest of him, so perhaps he can muster enough to keep her fed for now. When the weather clears, they’ll call for a pickup, which will include one medic on the crew—and then, on the _Finalizer_ , Hux will have to work out how to manage his duties while recovering from childbirth.

But all that’s hours away, at least. For now, he can just hold his baby, keeping her close while he memories her tiny, perfect features.

Ren crouches beside the bunk, reaching out to gently touch the baby’s face. He glances at Hux, eyes shining with something like pride. “I knew you could do it,” he says softly.

Despite his exhaustion, Hux smiles. Outside, the storm is still raging. But in here, at least, the three of them are safe and warm.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in, like, three hours, so the ending's a bit of a mess. also, it's not as blatantly kinky as my usual content, but I hope y'all enjoyed it, anyway.
> 
> thanks for reading! as always, you're welcome to yell at me [on tumblr](http://gonna-pop.tumblr.com/ask).


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